April Showers
by Meitantei Conan
Summary: [Short Oneshot] She knew what she was doing. Now it was her turn to sit and watch.


**Author's Notes**: Extremely bored. Staring at the ceiling. This is what came out. Interpret at your own will. It's rather…confusing, but I'm pleased with the way it came out, really. Meant to be somewhat Mark-centric. Mark thinking, Mark experiencing, Mark thinking again. If that makes sense, of course. Hinted failed!M/R. Could be seen as Mark/April if you want, though it wasn't intended to be so.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own RENT.

**_Warnings:_** Extremely morbid of me. Gore. Angst. Possible OOCness.

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April Showers

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She was that everything: the drive and energy that made him whole. She was that beauty that was just lucky enough to take a peek in at the rocker's wild and successful life. She, with fire red hair and piercing eyes, took his heart and soul right into her very own, making them inseparable.

She was the drug he swore himself on, the drug that made him feel higher than no other. She was the one who introduced him to liquid heaven, to the one sting that made everything spin and whirl with such glory, the glory he was trying so hard to attain. She was the spirit that pushed him there, that made him the best.

She was the real bitch that yelled at him, screamed at him, sometimes, when the shakes took over her body, the ones that were so contagious, his own body nearly took them on. But even then, he knew she was beautiful and that everything would be okay when they got the hit. She took good care of him. Tough love, it may be, but it was love and he was burning with it.

Then she became a wrinkled old sticky note; a bitter suicide. She became the epitome of the lethal virus that captivated him. She became something so very deadly to everyone. She tore their lives apart and was a surefire way to keep them that way.

She was blood. Blood splattered along walls and cold tile. She was dashing with skin peeled away from wrists, blood pouring her body lifeless. She was cold and smudged with the red, gleaming steel cold against cold flesh. She caused the rain to pour that day. She made sure everyone was mourning and suffering. She knew what she was doing.

She knew the effect it had on him. The man he so carefully watched over and protected was now dying out and fading away because of her.

It was because of her every time lips touched and embraces were shared that the rocker had a scared look in his eyes. The look that told him 'what if you end up like her?' or 'what if I kill you, too?' It was because of her that he pushed away and hid himself in the end.

Because of April, every time Mark saw the rain, he thought of her broken, bloody body and couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like if she hadn't waltzed into their lives. Because of that beautiful red head, he was left alone in the end, the last piece of the puzzle, lost amongst an all-too-busy city.

It was because of her Roger's heart wasn't big enough to take on the shred of life Mark had become.

It was because of those damned April showers he couldn't sleep at night. The way the rain fell hard against their tattered roof and woke him by pouring against his face. It was her reminder that she had what he couldn't touch. She had what he was unable to ever fully achieve. It was her reminder that he was gone. Gone forever and up into her arms, smiling and singing like he had back then.

The April showers reminded him that, maybe, somewhere, life was a little bit better on the other side. It was just a matter of waiting, now. They were all there ready to receive him and nurture him into the person he should've been, but never had the chance to be.

But now, they forced his eyes open.

"I was wonderin' when you would wake up, Marky."

A girlish giggle. April.

"Heh, yeah. Had a late night. What time is it?" Mark rubbed at his eyes and slipped his glasses on. Had he really just dreamt all of that?

"A little past eleven. Roger's not around and I thought I'd let somebody here know I was using your shower. Mine's out downstairs…"

Although she spoke normally, something in her eyes told Mark that she was not okay. Something was amiss beyond fiery hair and eyes and brightly painted lips.

"Oh, yeah, sure."

It was probably just because Roger was off missing again. Yeah, that was it.

"Thanks! You're a doll. Hey, by the way, get started on that film you were talking about! I'd love to see it!"

A doubtful laugh. "Will do, April. Be careful, the hot water runs out quick."

All he heard was another giggle and the door shut. To think, that when he opened it, red would flood over blues and pale skin would become whiter than it ever could. To think that beyond the giggles and the sweet smile was something so very painful and hurt. She mastered the mask.

And, soon enough, he was learning that very mask. Mastering it far better than she could've ever imagined. Ironic, that the rain fell the night he opened his film. And, as everyone fluttered off to bed, he was the one sitting out on the roof, letting the rain wash over him.

"Not quite the rock and roll you were looking for, but it will do, won't it?"

It felt as though the rain fell harder around him. Either that, or his body was just growing numb to it all again.

"Today for you."

And, with that, he made his way back inside and plopped down on the couch, pushing those tired, worn images out of his mind and, sat quietly, listening to the rain.

"_Thanks! You're a doll."_

Smiling, if only a little, Mark stretched out and let a peaceful sleep overcome him as that sweet April rain fell over the loft.


End file.
